Sodding Peacocks
by Little Damaris
Summary: If it weren't for those sodding peacocks, none of this would have happened.


Disclaimer: Merlin, this world is pure Rowling. I get to play in it, and own only my characters.

"_The peacock – the male of the peafowl family – may be found all over the world, though they exist primarily in India and Burma. Often a symbol of faith, the peacock also represents vitality, eternity and vanity. In the medieval era, kings ate peacocks to demonstrate their wealth. Today, peacocks are a non-traditional wizarding pet, freely roaming house and garden."_

_-The Best of Beasts and Birds, Rolf Scamander_

"Thank you, Druella, that was very kind – " The elderly witch harrumphs and nods stiffly before entering the manor, as Asteria lifts another brightly-coloured box and gently sets it on top of the ever-growing stack on a table in the entrance parlor.

Scorpius, even at three years old, would be a highly privileged child by the end of the afternoon. No spoiling, her husband made it clear one late evening, but he mysteriously neglected to stop gifts as they arrived. The wizard in question should be with his son playing with his stuffed dragon, the young witch muses as she eyes the pile (there's a box near the bottom that's wriggling but she doesn't want to cast a finite spell in case the gift was intentionally charmed). She's finally managed to work out which spell she should use when there's a cry from behind her.

"Asteria!"

The mother whips around to find the source of her name when Draco hurries to her, worry in his eyes. "Scorpius is missing," he informs her and before he elaborate further she rushes into the back of the house, automatically steered towards the garden.

"I already checked the garden!" Draco calls after her, but it is no use. She's now a mother on a mission, and gifts be damned, she'll find her child, else she'll be hexed off the family tree like her cousins. Oh, there's not only one family tree, she thinks bitterly as she takes a right, then a left in the hedge maze. The Malfoys have one too, and she's close to becoming a missing patch._ Hard enough to be born into an all-Slytherin family when you're a mere Ravenclaw, let alone marrying into a former Death Eater family. Why are there feathers everywhere? _Asteria hears another cry, this time more to her left. She adjusts her path and discovers her son lying face-down near their private aviary, blood pooling beside his head. She yelps and drops by his side, wand clattering by her knees. Trembling, she turns the toddler over and involuntarily cries again, running her hands over his arms and legs.

Scratches mar Scorpius pale visage; where once was a perfect complexion is now full of vivid red lines. Blood pours an area around from his nose. Asteria blinks once, then twice; it seems as though the end of his nose is missing, but perhaps her emotions are fooling her, and she certainly is no mediwitch. She shakes her head and continues her assessment – no broken limbs, no lumps on his head, and no serious gashes besides his nose and a nasty line on his left cheek. She immediately casts a Patronus with a simple message, "Found Scorpius by the aviary, need Healer. Urgent." Her quail ruffles its feathers then leaps into the air and disappears.

Returning her gaze to her son, she conjures a towel before staunching the blood, murmuring, "My son, my little dragon, what happened?"

Silvery eyes flutter and her heart leaps – not that she imagined him dead or even Stunned, but any mother revels in signs that their children are safe. "Mummy?" His voice is soft and airy, not heavy with shame like his father's, and she embraces Scorpius without thinking. His muffled cry reminds her that he is the one injured, not she, and maternal instincts take over.

"Where does it hurt the most, Scorpius? Can you tell Mummy?"

He nods. "Here," he says, pointing to his nose. "And here," pointing to the particularly wide gash in his left cheek. Asteria affirms his pain by gently placing the towel over the two spots as much as the small towel will allow, and she is grateful when she hears the _crack!_ of the Healers nearby.

"Healers are going to take care of you, do you understand Scorpius? They'll make you all better."

Scorpius nods again, though like any good mum she can read slight fear in his eyes. Like a true Malfoy, he hides his emotions otherwise, and like a true Greengrass, accepts the situation with resolve. A Healer finally arrives and pushes her aside without any intentional rudeness – like any who survived the War, Asteria knows the Healer is merely doing his job.

Behind the three Healer's shoulders (she counts them as they settle beside Scorpius: one for treatment, one for recording, another as supervisor) Asteria watches various detecting charms start as purple, then shift green for negative. Nothing too dangerous here, she internally sighs with relief. No hexes, jinxes or curses, though she's sure that even little Scorpius has enough to protect himself if it is necessary.

The Healer who pushed her away glances at Asteria. "You are the mother," he prompts, and Asteria bobs her head.

"That is correct; my husband fetched me when he realised Scorpius was missing," she explains, watching the second Healer writes with – not a quill, she realizes, but something similar. "I found him here, face-down and bleeding. I'm not too sure what happened, but I know he likes to play in the garden. It's very possible he tried to catch one of our birds," she concludes aloud, matching the combination of feathers around the aviary to the lines on her son's face.

The Healer's expression changes to one of understand and smiles. "Yes, it seems your little boy has an affinity for creatures. Best to keep him away from the aviary for now," he chuckles fondly as if he had a similar experience, "in the meantime, we'll check him into the pediatrics ward of St. Mungo's for extra examination on his nose; it appears that a bird has clipped the edge of it."

Asteria wrinkles her own nose in sympathy, but is grateful there is no worse damage. "Yes, Healer…?" she inquires, seeing no name-badge. "Johnson, " he promptly replies, "lost my badge in a fight with a six-year-old this morning, she had a bit of a temper when she realised she needed a vaccination charm. Nasty little buggers," he laughs, though Asteria isn't sure he's referring to the child or the charm.

Scorpius, meanwhile, lies silently as the Healers assessed him. His entire face stings, and he wants to cry, but Mummy said he must always be brave and calm in every situation. He watches as different colors dance above him, like the pretty birds he likes to pat. Green, then blue, then purple, all so very pretty to him. He closes his eyes and smiles.

"Bird," he says quietly. "I like birds." He sees an owl nearby and reaches up for it automatically: Mummy always lets him grab the funny paper off its legs. That's the last thing Scorpius sees before the Healer – the one with the funny paper – gives him something that tastes icky and makes him fall asleep.

"Makes the trip to Mungo's easier if they're not fighting the whole way," Johnson jests as he spots Asteria's concerned look. "It's only temporary, and we've stopped the blood, " he reassures her. "Now, we're taking him to Mungo's now, and you can meet us on the fifth floor, right wing." Asteria memorizes the directions and stands finally, knees popping as she arose. Perhaps she's not as young as she used to be, she thinks.

Johnson waves slightly before disappearing with a noise loud enough to make Asteria wince. She shakes her head – _Healers, really, get some more Apparition lessons_ – and stretches to loosen her muscles. She continues her walk through the hedge maze (truthfully it's a detailed labyrinth, enough to calm both hers and her husband's nightmares, but not enough people travel through it to know). Her thoughts wander to the circumstances surrounding Scorpius: she has no need to rush to Mungo's, her son is quite the little wizard and will be fine for the time it takes for the Healers to settle him into a room. His injuries aren't serious enough to merit another Patronus, and she's worked hard to maintain Draco's trust.

Lost in her memories, she stumbles into a peacock that had somehow escaped the aviary.

Asteria swats at the colorful plumage and mutters, remembering the party guests, family relations and presents to manage, not to mention her husband (who still hasn't appeared, oddly enough, though perhaps Druella had kept him what with her obnoxious stories). "Sodding peacocks," she grumbles before straightening her back and returning her way to the Manor. She has a party to cancel and a hospital to visit.

**A/N: First fanfiction; had a plot bison (I shan't say bunny because bison sounds cooler). Reviews are greatly appreciated and generally returned (hey, I go to college and I have a job). Also, for those of you Britishly inclined, please correct my terminology as needs fit. I'm only a simple American :)**

**Also, if you'd like to look it up, labyrinths aren't actually mazes. They have one way in, one way out, and are intended to be meditative. The War merits meditation, yes?**

**Also also, more chapters coming!**


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